


Respite

by estelraca



Category: Kamen Rider Decade
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 07:12:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6647530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estelraca/pseuds/estelraca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a rough adventure in a new world, Natsumi, Tsukasa, Yuusuke, and Daiki return to the Hikari Photo Studio together for a much-needed break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Respite

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Silverwind, for the prompt of the Decade OT4 accidentally falling asleep together. It also happens to be the fic that puts me over 100 works on AO3! To celebrate this, I'm offering to write small fics (500-1000 words). Feel free to leave a request in the comments or to drop by my tumblr, which is also estelraca, and give a request!

_Respite_

Tsukasa pushes open the door to the Hikari Photo Studio, the little bell that Eijiro placed there six months ago tinkling into the silence—a collection of four bells, really, their tones complementing each other nicely.

"Welcome!" Eijiro comes scrambling out of the little kitchen, an apron tied haphazardly on. His smile of greeting becomes a more genuine smile as he spots Tsukasa and the three people following him. "Or should I say, welcome home, children."

"We're not children, gramps." Kaitou's voice is too tired to manage his usual argumentative tone. "But, yeah, we're all back."

"A bit late for dinner." Eijiro studies his watch, nodding to himself. "But I suppose I can whip something up. It would be a shame for the heroes to go hungry."

Kaitou doesn't argue at the _heroes_ line—he's definitely reached and exceeded the point of exhaustion, then.

"Food would be wonderful." Yuusuke's smile is obvious in his voice, though his tones, too, are dragged down by weariness as Natsumi helps him through the door.

(They took turns walking Yuusuke home, Tsukasa supporting him first, when the nearly-dismembering shoulder wound still sported a thick, ugly mess of scab and scar. Kaitou had taken over after Tsukasa nearly walked the two of them head-first into a column, tutting at Tsukasa that he's a lazy ass. Tsukasa hadn't really felt like arguing with Kaitou, especially since Kaitou's _somewhat_ right in his description, and had traded out. When Kaitou almost walked the two of them into traffic, Natsumi had shoved Kaitou out of the way, rolling her eyes and saying that boys can't be trusted to take care of anything. Both Tsukasa and Kaitou had put up a token protest, but it was Yuusuke with his injured side—by that point a thick red mess of scar tissue—that had won the battle simply by staring at Natsumi until she recanted.)

Allowing his lanky frame to collapse on the couch, Tsukasa draws in deep breaths, relishing the feel of support under his body. How long has it been since they sat down? The crazy Makai knights that they helped save hadn't seemed to believe that sitting was a valid posture. They also hadn't believed in sleep, or sanity, or self-preservation. Not that Tsukasa's crew is all that good at—

"You ass." Considering that Kaitou sits down on Tsukasa's legs while he speaks, Tsukasa thinks it's a distinctly unfair accusation.

"A very nice ass." Yuusuke's right hand, the one that _didn't_ almost end up in whatever weird dimension the Makai is, strokes along Tsukasa's jean-clad posterior. "But one that's in the way."

"Come on." Natsumi tugs at Tsukasa's hair, a clear warning in the way her fingers ghost across his neck. Also a bit of a promise, in the way they curl through his currently-shaggy-mane, and Tsukasa finds himself shivering, his body deciding that maybe it _can_ find a little bit of energy somewhere if it's really needed.

Squirming until Kaitou gets off him, Tsukasa sits up with a long-suffering groan. Arranging himself in the center of the couch, Tsukasa looks left and right, arching one eyebrow. "I don't think there's enough room. Which is why you should all find your own places to—"

Kaitou flops down to the left of Tsukasa, his head hitting the back of the couch with what sounds like a painful _crack_. If it actually hurts, though, Kaitou doesn't admit it, staring in bleary gratitude up at the ceiling.

Yuusuke settles more gingerly next to Tsukasa, maneuvering his left arm—the scar tissue already noticeably less thick—so that it's draped around Tsukasa's shoulders. Yuusuke's lean body is a furnace, hot and solid, and Tsukasa finds himself gravitating into the offered embrace.

Natsumi just plops herself down on Tsukasa's lap, lifting her feet to drape them across Kaitou's legs, her left hand reaching out to use Yuusuke as a stabilizing point as she smiles smugly at Tsukasa. "Now we all fit. We can all relax while Grandfather makes dinner."

As if those were the magic words to summon him again, Eijiro appears in front of them. That or Tsukasa closed his eyes for a few minutes, but Tsukasa thinks it's more likely the old man developed teleportation powers. It certainly wouldn't be the weirdest thing Eijiro has done. Possibly not even the weirdest thing the old man has done _tonight_ , considering he's wearing one rabbit and one fox oven mitt right now. "Which sounds more appealing, ramen or udon?"

Yuusuke answers promptly. "Anything without carrots."

Kaitou rolls his head to the side, staring at Tsukasa because Tsukasa is in the general direction of Yuusuke. "What if carrots are good for reattaching arms?"

"Don't care." Yuusuke yawns. "Don't like them."

Eijiro nods, as though something important has been decided. "No carrots. Very good."

Then the old man is gone again, presumably to make food appear. Rubbing at his eyes, Tsukasa tries to decide if he's actually hungry or not.

"It's good to be home." Natsumi lies down, her head pillowing effortlessly on Yuusuke's lap. She keeps one hand fisted in Tsukasa's shirt, though, and her left leg is currently stroking up and down Kaitou's side.

"Very good." Yuusuke nuzzles into Tsukasa's side.

"Especially given..." Natsumi's voice trails off, an open-ended offer.

"No." Kaitou doesn't bother shaking his head, reaching out to grab Natsumi's leg with one hand and hold it still. "I don't want or need to talk about it. I'm fine."

"It must be hard." Yuusuke's words are a hot, warm wind against Tsukasa's neck, Yuusuke's arm tightening its hold. "For those Makai Knights. Living in a world with Horrors and... the things they do."

"It's all right if you don't want to talk about it right now, Daiki." Natsumi levers herself up enough to smile at the thief. "But if you ever do..."

"I know, I know. Everyone here is very good at helping to talk about brainwashing and mental trauma and all that jazz." Kaitou sighs, and Tsukasa can feel the tension rising in Kaitou's body again where their sides touch, though to outward appearances Kaitou is still relaxed. "It didn't actually manage to _do_ anything to me, so don't worry. If it had... well, you guys saw what happens to people possessed by Horrors."

"You turned it down." Yuusuke's left hand moves, still awkward and slow, reaching out from where it had been sitting on Tsukasa's shoulder to touch Kaitou's arm. "I'm really, really glad you did."

"I'm no idiot. There's no way it could have made me a better thief—I'm already the best thief in all the world." Kaitou grins, a self-satisfied expression, though it fades far too quickly. "Besides, I would never give _myself_ to anyone or anything. At least... not like that."

Tsukasa loops one of his legs between Kaitou's, recognizing what Kaitou is hinting at in his roundabout way. Kaitou would never allow something to use him—would never allow something to _claim_ him. The last seven years say that Kaitou can _give_ himself to people, though, if he wants... if it's the right people. "I hate having to stab my friends, so I'm glad you decided not to become a cannibalistic monster."

"Tsukasa..." Kaitou shoves at Tsukasa's shoulder, resulting in Natsumi and Yuusuke being jarred, too. "I already used ass, so let me think for a minute to come up with the proper adjective for you."

"I think it'll take more than a minute for you to come up with something grand and glorious enough." Tsukasa shifts even as he smirks at Kaitou, leaning his body against Kaitou's, drawing Kaitou closer as firmly as he can with their entwined legs.

Kaitou just rolls his eyes, sinking further into the couch, a smirk on his face. The smirk fades after only a few seconds, though, Kaitou's eyes closing as his expression becomes more thoughtful. "Are we... are we going to keep doing this?"

"Traveling?" Tsukasa nods toward where the backdrops that will take them to their next destination hang. "Of course."

"Also surviving." One of Natsumi's hands trails across Yuusuke's nearly-healed shoulder; the other presses itself to Tsukasa's chest; her foot strokes up and down Kaitou's side again, possessive, protective. "I like it when we all come out of a fight in one piece."

"And we're going to keep being heroes." Yuusuke's voice is soft but certain—not aggressive, but not apologetic about what he's saying. "We're going to help where we're needed, and we're going to leave things better behind us when we leave."

"We'll try to, at least." Tsukasa pulls Yuusuke tight to his side again. He is not quite so dependent on Yuusuke to be his conscience anymore—he has learned, over the last seven years, where his own demarcations of right and wrong lie. Has learned that he _has_ them, and that though they sometimes differ from Yuusuke's they are not always _bad_ , and that he can be a hero in his own right. There is still a terrible certainty in Tsukasa's chest, when Yuusuke or Natsumi has been taken or injured by the enemy as Yuusuke was earlier, that it would be far too easy for Tsukasa to become the Destroyer again if someone managed to fracture his home.

"We're crazy." Kaitou sighs, draping his left arm across his eyes. "We are all absolutely, completely insane."

Natsumi shifts, rotating on Tsukasa's lap so that her feet lie across Yuusuke and her upper body lies against Kaitou's chest. "This is just the way you love us, though."

Natsumi tries to kiss him on the cheek; Kaitou turns his head, and the two share a brief moment of lip-to-lip contact. Kaitou's body tenses again, and for a moment Tsukasa thinks that maybe everyone _does_ have enough energy to make the rest of tonight interesting.

Then Natsumi breaks off the kiss, patting Kaitou's chest and laying her head against his shoulder. "I hope dinner's done soon. This has been a very long three days."

Tsukasa makes a noise of affirmation, settling one hand on Natsumi's thigh. They'll eat, and then they'll sleep, and then Tsukasa will take them somewhere safe for a few days of relaxation. He's been better at controlling his power since the War. If he focuses, he can usually make it back to a world he's been in before—can _always_ make it back to whatever world the Hikari Photo Studio or Natsumi or Yuusuke or Kaitou is in. It doesn't keep them out of trouble, especially because something seems to draw them to where they're needed—to where their strength can do some good—but it _does_ mean that when they need a break, when they've been fighting for a while...

He doesn't mean to fall asleep. He's fairly certain he's hungry as well as tired, and he knows from experience that he'll feel better when he wakes up if he eats and sleeps in a real bed. Yuusuke is warm against his right side, though; and Natsumi's body is so comfortably fitted against his and Kaitou's; and Kaitou's breathing has taken on the easy rhythm of sleep... it's their fault, really.

Since there's pretty much nowhere else he'd rather be and no one else he'd rather be with, though, Tsukasa doesn't mind too much.

XXX

The others fall asleep quickly—Kaitou first, and then Tsukasa and Natsumi within thirty seconds of each other.

Yuusuke would be asleep, too, except he's too hungry to sleep, not when the smells of dinner cooking are wafting in from the kitchen. It takes energy to heal from a significant wound, and having his arm nearly gnawed off is definitely a significant wound. Practice has made Kuuga very good at healing them, though, the amadam a pulsing fire in his gut as it encourages his not-quite-human body to knit itself back together.

Eijiro appears in the doorway again, a single bowl of something that smells of crab and fish and noodles in hand. He tip-toes his way to Yuusuke, making barely any sound, his eyes fixed on Natsumi where she is curled across them.

"Thank you." Yuusuke takes the proffered bowl in hand, immediately taking a sip of the warm broth. Would it be too warm for the others at the moment? He doesn't know. It has been too long since his own body felt hot and cold normally, and he has judged what should be too hot and what should be too cold these last years based on how the others act.

"You're very welcome, Yuusuke." Eijiro speaks quietly but clearly. "I take it there were particular difficulties with this world?"

Yuusuke shrugs his right shoulder, not wanting to jar the others from their rest. "There's always particular difficulties. Nothing we couldn't overcome, though."

A tender, almost wistful smile flashes across Eijiro's face as his eyes move from Natsumi to Tsukasa to Kaitou. "You have all grown into such remarkable individuals."

"We're just being ourselves, doing what we can." Yuusuke studies the old man—the way Eijiro's hands shake, just slightly; the way his eyes have become more clouded. Even retired mad scientists age, apparently. "Just like everyone else."

"The four of you have made a family out of an accident. Hope out of predetermined despair." Eijiro leans forward, his hand not quite touching Natsumi but stroking over the contours of her hair. "Thank you—all of you—for giving my granddaughter and myself something precious."

"There's no need for thanks. Natsumi and Tsukasa and Kaitou and I... we work really well together." Yuusuke restrains himself from thanking Eijiro for accepting the relationship they've created. Retired mad scientists have probably seen much weirder, and it's not something Yuusuke is in the least bit ashamed of. The last of the broth and udon noodles slides into his mouth, and Yuusuke looks down at the empty bowl in disappointment. "Though I will thank you for the food. That was delicious."

"You're very welcome." Eijiro takes the bowl from his hand. "Seconds?"

Yuusuke nods, allowing his head to rest against Tsukasa's shoulder. "Yes, please."

Eijiro immediately moves back towards the kitchen, and Yuusuke allows his eyes to close briefly. What would Yashiro think, if she could see him now? Would she understand what he's chosen to be—these people he's chosen as his family?

Yes, Yuusuke thinks. Yashiro only ever wanted two things from him—for him to protect people, and for him to be happy. The first comes easily to him, now, more naturally even than breathing; the second... well, he doesn't think he could ever be happier than when he's with this eclectic band of travelers, moving world to unknown world together.

He falls asleep without meaning to, his head pillowed on Tsukasa's shoulder, Natsumi's legs draped across his lap, Kaitou's hair tangled in the fingers of his left hand.

He wakes briefly a few minutes later, when Eijiro is draping blankets across them, but only for long enough to smile at the old man.

They are home, and they are together, and Yuusuke is very, very happy with where his life has ended up.


End file.
